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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
F R O M I N D I A
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Archive name: India08.txt
Authors name: Mary Jorsay Gandmar (maryjg@finebody.com)
Story Title : DIRTY AMBER : Part 1/4
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** Dirty Amber : Part 1 of 4 **
by Mary Jorsay Gandmar
-- story online at
http://www.hostwebsite.com/~cyrene/prose/wiwit/dirtamb1.htm --
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Note for reader: Indian words are between asterisks, thus: *sari*;
correctly, they should be italicized.
Select Glossary of Indian words:
http://www.hostwebiste.com/~cyrene/prose/glossary/glossary.htm
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The woman's face was a perfect oval, tapering to a fine chin. Her eyes
were elongated, almond-shaped, lined with *kajal*. She had high
cheekbones and a fine, straight nose. Her mouth was small, but her
lips were full and luscious. She had white, even teeth. Her hair was
thick and lustrous, now tied in a plait that reached her buttocks. Her
dusky skin was smooth and clear and soft, the colour and texture of
honey. A long, elegant neck led smoothly to full, high, ripe breasts,
superbly formed and heavy, like succulent mangoes. Her belly was firm
and flat, her waist narrow and her hips flared just so, to neatly
curved buttocks and slender, long, elegant legs. Her arms were
smoothly turned, and her hands and feet were shapely. She wore a long
*mangalsutra* around her neck, a *bindi*, gold hoops in her earlobes,
gold finger-rings, anklets and toe-rings.
She lay naked on a low divan in the middle of the room, crouched on
all her forearms and knees like the sphinx, her legs folded under her
belly in an obtuse V, her head bowed. Silk scarves bound her wrists
and ankles to the divan. Her dusky skin shimmered with sweat and her
chest heaved. Her head rose slowly and she moaned, her fingers
scrunching the rich tapestry counterpane on which she lay. Her eyes
were hooded and her lips fluttered open. She tensed, whimpering
softly, and her eyes were wide and glassy.
"Please - hurry - please - fuck me! Fuck me hard!"
And then her body jerked forward and her head snapped back and her
mouth tore open as if pulled by an invisible string. A long, thin
shriek erupted from her throat. Her face twisted and contorted and
spasmed in agony. Tendons stood out and strained in her long neck and
her lips snapped back in a savage rictus.
"More!" An exultant male voice cried over hers. "Shove it in all the
way, motherfucker! Ram it in!"
"Ohhhhhhhh uhhh yes! Ohhh god, yes, uhhhhh Ohhh yes!" The woman cried,
her body writhing and shaking, twisting, her chest heaving
frantically.
"Yes! Yes! Do it, bastard! Do it!"
The woman shrieked again, louder and longer this time, her head
arching violently backward, her back bending steeply down. Behind and
above her, a tall, handsome, massively built black man gasped, arching
his head. He was naked and his body glistened with sweat. He groaned
and his taut buttocks flexed and his hips slid forward. His penis was
gargantuan, about nine inches long and correspondingly thick. It moved
forward, disappearing inexorably between the woman's buttocks. She
cried out again, and the second male voice chortled gleefully. The
penis went in deeper and deeper, seemingly endless. The woman's voice
was ragged, hoarse, cracked, and her cries came in choking, broken
gasps and whimpering, sobbing moans. Her body heaved and writhed.
Deeper and deeper the penis went till it was inside her fully, buried
to the hilt. The black man paused, and the woman whimpered. He waited
patiently. Her moans gradually dwindled and she began whimpering
softly. His big hands slid up her slender, curved body to cup her
swollen, pendulous breasts. Her nipples were long and stiff in small,
dark aureoles.
The woman was being sodomised. The man fucking her ass was a hired
stud, a gigolo. He had been fucking her steadily and relentlessly for
the past ninety minutes, almost without respite. They were in the
sunken living area of her house, in her home. All around them, on all
four sides of the divan, there were men watching. The woman was on
display, being fucked openly and publicly, for the pleasure of the
dozen or so voyeurs.
The woman's name was Sayali and she was twenty-four years old. Her
husband of six months, Suresh, prowled around the divan, goading the
gigolo, urging him to greater heights sexual action. The watching men
were his friends and business associates. Now, as they chortled and
whistled and clapped their approval of the performance, he smiled to
himself in satisfaction.
Sayali was the best thing that had happened to his business. He was a
small-time trader in an infernal hurry. Sayali lived opposite. He had
known her all his life, but never noticed her. Now, needing someone to
keep house for him and to entertain his associates he proposed to her.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that she would do it so
well, or with such astonishing results.
Suresh realised that his bride was anything but a virgin on their
wedding night itself. There was nothing shy or timid in her manner, no
sign of hesitation. On the contrary, it was he who suddenly felt
nervous and unsure. He had only had one previous affair, a short-lived
and sexually unsatisfactory relationship with one of the girls in the
office several years earlier. She was delighted that he was a virgin,
and said she had never fucked one before. Suresh thought they were
making love, and said so. Bina laughed and told him to stop being
idiotic. He could call it what he liked, but they were still only
fucking, doing what every one of God's creatures did. Intimidated,
Suresh let her take him to bed. She was apparently insatiable and over
the next few weeks, they fucked daily. He enjoyed the sex and her
body. The affair ended as abruptly as it had begun. Bina walked out
after a few weeks, saying that he was a bore in bed, that she needed a
man who knew how to fuck.
Shaken and frightened, Suresh deliberately kept away from women, and
concentrated on his work. He left the company -- the constant
proximity with Bina and seeing her contemptuous, pitying glances --
was too much to bear. He set up a small inndustry in the suburbs
making aluminum utensils. He began to do well and, under pressure from
his family -- he was getting older, after all -- married Sayali.
On their wedding night, all his anxieties returned. He worried that he
might not satisfy her, that she, too, might reject him. He made a
first, fumbling, clumsy attempt, trying to kiss her ineptly as she sat
on the bed dressed in all her bridal finery. She must have understood
the problem for she took over, and he felt incompetent and
inexperienced as she worked his body with a cunning that took his
breath away. Gently, tenderly, unhurriedly, expertly, she aroused him
till he was almost screaming with excitement. Her lips and fingers and
tongue were everywhere, and then she had his cock in her cunt and it
was a hot, tight vortex that drew him down, down, down and drowned him
in a sea of endless joy. She moaned and panted eagerly as he plunged
greedily into her flesh and then, to his utter shock, started egging
him on with a litany of gutter obscenities. Strangely aroused, he
rocked deep into her flesh and she cried out in joy and begged for
more. Their cataclysmic orgasms were almost simultaneous.
Later, snuggling naked on the sweat and lovejuice stained sheets,
Suresh kissed her gently, caressing her breast.
"Sayali!"
"Mm?" She swirled her tongue over his nipple and her fingers were
already crawling down his belly. Her nipple hardened between his
fingers and he felt her breast swell and grow turgid with excitement.
"You're not a virgin. Are you?"
Suddenly her lips were hot on his and her body was across his.
"Suresh," she whispered. "Don't ask me that. Not tonight. Tomorrow,
maybe, and I'll tell you. Not tonight. Tonight, just let's enjoy each
other."
"Tomorrow, then." Suresh was secretly relieved. He did not really want
to know. Not that night, not when the magic was all around him.
"Yes. I promise."
Then he moaned softly as her lips engulfed his penis and she started
again. She was inexhaustible, insatiable and she aroused him
repeatedly with such gentle dexterity and skill that he never felt
otherwise than in full control. It was only later that he realised
that it was she, and not he, who had guided their lovemaking till the
end, that he had only done what she always intended him to do, said
what she wanted to hear, moved to her rhythm.
The next day, they left for their honeymoon and Suresh was hopelessly
and passionately in love. At the luxury hotel in Kodaikanal -- he
could afford it this once, he had reasoned -- he fell on her the
minute they arrived and, laughing, she tormented him, tteasing and
flirting with him till he was mad with lust. Then, laughing, she gave
in and he fucked her like one possessed. She arched in evidently
unfaked pleasure under him and made him go faster, harder, deeper.
They fucked all afternoon, slept all evening, skipped dinner, and
fucked all night. By three in the morning, they were ravenous and he
ordered too much food and drink from room-service. It took forty-five
minutes to arrive and they used the time to fuck again, and he took
her from behind, squatting over her hips and pounding his inflamed
penis in and out of her cunt, crushing her swinging breasts in his
hands. She orgasmed violently and he jerked out of her came between
her buttocks, on her anus, then slid his cock into her cunt again just
as the room-service steward rapped on the door.
Cursing softly, Suresh went to the door while she flung on a gown and
stepped out onto the moonlit deck. The waiter wheeled the laden
trolley into the room, and she came in through the window, shivering
slightly, remarking on the chill in the air. She looked at the waiter
and Suresh felt a sudden, fleeting tension, a peculiar glint in her
eyes. The waiter was a tall, handsome, lean man. Then it was gone and
the waiter turned to him with the leather folder and ball-point pen to
sign the voucher. Suresh signed it and handed it back and the waiter
said thank you in a voice that somehow seemed to convey bafflement. He
looked at Suresh a shade longer than was polite in such a plush
hostelry and only turned away when Suresh doubled the tip.
Suresh looked at his retreating back for a minute, wondering what it
was that he had missed, when the steward said, in a very odd voice,
"Have a very good night, sir."
Before Suresh could respond, the door clicked shut. Suresh turned to
find Sayali already at the trolley, heaping a plate. He looked at her
and felt his pulse quicken. Her gown had fallen open and her naked
body was revealed to his view. Her long *mangalsutra* swung against
her breasts and belly.
"Here you are, love." She handed him the plate, heaped with food.
"I don't want to eat. I want to fuck you."
"After you've eaten."
"No. Now. I want to come in your mouth and on your face and your tits
and in your cunt and.."
Sayali laughed prettily. "That's a lot of coming, Suresh. You won't be
able to do any of it unless you eat. Eat."
"Only if you will."
"Of course."
"Take off your clothes. I like seeing you naked."
"All right. Take off yours."
"No. You take off mine. Later. When we fuck. I like having you do
that."
Sayali smiled and slithered out of her gown. They ate in bed and
Suresh realised how hungry he was when the first morsel went into his
mouth. He took a second helping and was about to go for a third when
she stopped him.
"Enough. You must eat little, fuck, eat again. If you eat too much,
you won't be able to do anything."
Then his cock was in her mouth and they tumbled around on the floor,
and he struggled around and pulled her legs apart and pushed his head
into her crotch, questing for her cunt with his tongue, aching to
thrust it deep into that warm, succulent, perennially moist cavern.
Her tongue and lips and teeth wrought their magic on his penis and her
slender finger slipped between his buttocks and pressed to his anus.
He felt his jizz roil up, eager for another release.
While they were fucking, she reminded him of her promise made the
previous evening. Astride his lap, impaled on his cock, her dark hair
tumbling down her front, she smiled gently down at him. He rocked
gently under her, not hurrying, toying with her splendid breasts,
unable to get enough of her wonderful body. Her cunt squeezed his
penis gently, insistently. She bent over and kissed him, her hot,
heavy breasts swinging against his chest, her *mangalsutra* cold
between their bodies.
"Remember your question last night?" she asked, tonguing his ear.
"Yes."
"You still want an answer?"
"Yes. More than ever."
"Do you trust me?"
"With all my heart."
"Will you believe what I say is the truth and that there is nothing
else?"
"Will you tell me everything?"
"Yes."
"Then of course I'll believe you."
"Even if it's something you don't like?"
"There's nothing about you I don't like."
"You might still."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Nothing. Only promise to keep faith in me, and to do as I say."
He looked at her quietly. "What are you trying to tell me, Sayali? I
don't understand."
She sighed softly. "Sometimes, you know, Suresh, when I can't sleep
and the night won't end, I ask myself the same thing and I say the
same thing. I don't understand myself either."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Love, listen to me." Suddenly her voice was serious and urgent.
"Believe me when I say that these past two nights have been the most
wonderful in a long time. Not the best ever, because there were
others. Yes, I've had lovers. But it's not enough for you to know just
that. Oh, I could tell you: how many, where and when and how. But that
still won't tell you the most important thing -- why. So I'm going to
do this. I can just talk and tell you and then you'll have to do with
it what you like; accept it and accept me, or reject both. Because
you can't have me without my past."
"Fair enough," he said after a little, thoughtful pause.
"There's another way."
"What's that?"
"For that you'll have to wait. It's more difficult, to accept, to
understand, to acknowledge. The harder road. But if you take that,
then everything else falls into place."
"You're not making sense."
"Few things do. Trust me. Just choose. Shall I talk now or will you
wait till tomorrow, say, afternoon?"
"And if there's anything to be explained tomorrow, you'll do that?"
"I promise."
"Then I'll wait."
"Good."
She smiled, it seemed in relief, and lifted her breast to his lips. He
nibbled on her stiff nipple and she moaned softly.
"Come on, now," she said. "Fuck me, Suresh! Fuck my slit! Come on!
Shove your cock into my cunt!"
--- END OF PART 1 OF 4 ---
Kristen's collection------------------------------------------